sold out

A painting,
Done by little sister, no longer little
Drags me out of bed,
And into a world of ship and sea,
Where my creativity is not dead.

I spend my nights within that world,
Climbing rigging, and watching stars,
Then return within the day,
To a life behind figurative bars.

If only,
If only I had not sold out,
Then in daytime I could also be,
As creative as this paintings painter,
And live a life that is truly free.